


at my most beautiful

by WellyFullOfAle



Series: Robron Week 2017 [7]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, Flirting, Fluff, Husbands, M/M, Tears, Voicemails, cuddles in bed, robert tears, robrons home farm holiday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10101062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WellyFullOfAle/pseuds/WellyFullOfAle
Summary: Three little drabbles that should fit in with canon - one from affair era, one from Robert's current struggle, one from the morning after the wedding.Inspired by REM - At My Most Beautiful (lyrics in italics).Day Seven of Robron Week - Jukebox





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first dance at my wedding and also one of my all-time favourite songs. It came up on my Spotify the other day while I was flailing over Robron and I realised I had to pick it as inspiration for this day of Robron week! Also not sure I should tell my husband it now makes me think of Robron instead of our wedding day…(yes I am a terrible person)

**August 2016**

_I've found a way to make you_  
_I've found a way_  
 _A way to make you smile_

Robert didn’t know how he’d gone so long without remembering.

He thought back to when he’d first realised.

Aaron had been staying at Home Farm for a couple of days, and they’d barely left Robert’s bedroom, and they’d managed to settle into the domesticity of it far quicker than either of them thought they would be able to.

It had come so naturally to them.

And for the first time, they’d properly been able to spend some time with one another; getting to know one another.

They’d been able to chill on the sofa with a beer and share a pizza; they’d been able to bicker over their incompatible film and TV choices, trying to persuade each other to fall in love with their favourites; they’d been able to flirt and tease without pressure of time, and to get to know one another in a way they hadn’t been able to ever do before.

Aaron had dragged himself out of Robert’s bed to get them something to eat – they’d needed to keep their strength up, after all – and Robert had missed him because he’d taken too long, and he’d thrown his dressing gown on to go down and find out where he’d got to.

“There you are,” Robert had smiled as he’d walked into the kitchen.

Aaron had been stood at the stove, frowning as he‘d held the frying pan in his left hand as his right hand fiddled with the knobs on the hob.

Robert had noticed the bacon was raw in the pan, and had realised Aaron hadn’t been able to work out how to turn the heat on.

He’d laughed, and Aaron had glared at him in response.

“Shut up and show me how it works then,” Aaron had snapped at him, and Robert had placed his hands lightly against Aaron’s waist to move him out of the way so that he could turn the heat on.

He’d noticed how Aaron had jolted slightly at the touch of Robert’s hands against the spot on his waist.

Robert had taken the pan from Aaron and placed on the ring of the stove that he’d just managed to light with one switch, before he’d smirked up at Aaron, teasing the surly expression on his face.

He’d needed confirmation of his suspicions, so he’d tried it again, reaching his hand out to tickle against the sensitive spot between Aaron’s waist and his hip with a smile covering his face.

Aaron had recoiled away from him instinctively, using his arms to block Robert’s approach, but his expression had shifted immediately into a beaming, childlike smile that reached all the way up to his eyes.

Robert’s insides had lurched at the sight of it, and he’d laughed as he’d gone in again, reaching his desired destination this time as his hand connected with the seemingly ticklish spot on Aaron’s side.

“Stop it!” Aaron had laughed – giggled, almost – and Robert had laughed back in return, and he’d chased Aaron around the kitchen island at Home Farm with a renewed urge to keep that smile on Aaron’s face.

They’d burnt the bacon that morning, Robert remembered.

It had been a long while since then, and it was only as he teased Aaron in their bedroom this morning – trying to grab his towel from where it was slung low on his boyfriend’s waist – that he remembered.

Aaron’s ticklish spot.

His hand brushed against it accidentally, and Robert ‘s eyes widened in realisation when Aaron recoiled away from his touch playfully, and that laugh erupted out in waves around their bedroom.

“Robert, no!” Aaron laughed, falling onto the bed as he walked himself backwards to try and protect himself from Robert using it against him.

“Oh, I remember this,” Robert beamed, and Aaron sunk into the mattress as Robert climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs, and attempting to gain access to that sweet spot again.

Aaron was laughing, and there were arms all in a jumble between them as they play-fought each other, Aaron desperate to stop Robert from making him squirm in that way he did so well; Robert desperate to summon that playful smile he knew Aaron couldn’t control whenever Robert tickled him.

Robert vowed to use his secret weapon now whenever he could – in the pub in response to Aaron teasing him about wearing floral print; in the stairwell at the back of the pub when Aaron insinuated Robert’s 30 years made him ancient; in their bedroom when they’d finally closed themselves off from the rest of the world and he was pawing at his boyfriend to rid him of his clothes.

He felt pleased with himself, content that he would always have a way to bring out that smile from his man, no matter what.

 

**March 2017**

_I read bad poetry_   
_Into your machine_   
_I save your messages_   
_Just to hear your voice._   
_You always listen carefully_   
_To awkward rhymes._   
_You always say your name._   
_Like I wouldn't know it's you_   
_At your most beautiful._

 

Robert hadn’t felt more alone in his life.

He took another sip of whisky and grimaced with the burning sensation as it slid down his throat.

He slumped back against the wall behind him, taking in his surroundings.

He was in Mill Cottage – a building site, at present, with paint bottles and a plethora of tools scattered haphazardly around the floor – and he shivered with the cold breeze that rattled around the place.

It was dark outside – gone midnight – and he’d found himself incapable of facing sleeping in that bed alone again, without Aaron, so he’d thrown on his joggers and coat and grabbed a bottle of whisky and made his way from the pub to their home.

Their marital home; eventually.

He choked on his thoughts, and took another sip of whisky.

He took his phone from his pocket, and dialled the number at the top of his recently called list.

He counted the rings.

Nine.

Always nine.

The dial tone clicked and he heard the familiar message.

“It’s Aaron Dingle, Holey Scrap, leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

Robert stayed silent for a while, unsure what to say this time.

His voice was broken when he finally summoned the strength to use it.

“Hi, husband. I miss you, so much. I wish you could just get in touch.”

His tears started, so he hung up and held his phone close to his chest, gripping it tightly as if it contained his one last shred of hope and light.

It did, after all, in some ways.

He stilled his tears with four – five – more swigs of whisky straight from the bottle, and tried to regulate his breathing as his silent tears subsided.

He unlocked his phone again, and clicked the second number on his call log – 901, voicemail.

He listened to the robotic voice of the woman on the other end, taunting him with the fact that he had no new messages; reminding him he had 4 saved messages.

 _First message,_ she said, _Wednesday 12 th October, 4.33pm._

“Hiya, it’s me, Aaron. Your new voicemail thing is hilarious, you muppet. ‘Robert Sugden here, thanks for your call, leave me a message I’ll get back to you in no time at all.’ What is that, mate, seriously? Did you realise it rhymed? Anyway, call me back I wanna know what you’re cooking me for tea.”

He sounded light, and happy, and Robert wanted to smile with the thought of his husband’s no doubt playful expression as he teased him about the unintentional poetry he’d still got as his voicemail message.

He _wanted_ to smile at the memory of it.

He just wasn’t sure he had the ability to do that, anymore.

 _Second message,_ she said, _Thursday 8 th December, 12.19pm._

“Hiya, it’s Aaron. Call me, it’s about Liv. Again!”

His voice was short, this time. He was angry.

He related to that much more.

 _Third message,_ she said, _Tuesday 17 th January, 10.45am._

“Seriously, you need to change that cringe message, mate, honestly. Anyway, I’m out shopping for some stuff for Vegas, baby! and I couldn’t remember if you’ve got any sunglasses, but you’re clearly too busy to talk to me so I’m just gonna buy you some new ones anyway! Should be home in a bit. It’s Aaron, by the way.”

He was excited, and Robert felt the guilty and resentment coiling further in the pit of his stomach, knowing he’d had a part to play in destroying that excitement that day; that they’d never made it to Vegas and never had a chance to use those sunglasses.

It only served to remind him why he was alone right now, too.

His tears renewing their vigour as they fell some more, and he wanted to smash his phone against the wall.

He stopped himself though, aware that he needed that precious possession, not only for the photos and the text messages he obsessively pored over whenever he was alone now, but because it was his only way to hear Aaron’s voice whenever he wanted to now.

Especially in the message he knew was next to play.

 _Fourth message,_ she said, _Thursday 23 rd February, 11.02am._

“Hi, husband. Mr Sugden here. I just wanted to speak to you before I went into court but you’re not there, so this’ll have to do. Whatever happens, I just wanna say thank you, for yesterday. And for everything. It meant so much, Robert, honestly. I’m so sorry for all of this. I messed up and I’ve ruined it all and I’m sorry. I love you, Robert. Come and visit me, as soon as, yeah? I’m sorry. Um….see yah then? Bye.”

Robert hung up his phone.

He’d still hadn’t forgiven himself for missing that last call from Aaron.

He couldn’t even remedy his guilt with any sense of gratitude that it at least meant he had one more voicemail to listen back to.

He went to take another swig from the bottle, but found it empty.

He flung it against the wall, watching the glass smash into a thousand pieces like it was some kind of metaphor for his broken heart.

He’d regret that in the morning, he realised, but he was too drunk and lovesick to care, as he felt his body slump down into a heap on the floor, and finally give way to sleep.

**February 2017**

_At my most beautiful_  
_I count your eyelashes secretly._  
 _With every one, whisper I love you._  
 _I let you sleep._  
 _I know you're closed eye watching me,_  
 _Listening._  
 _I thought I saw a smile._

 

Robert stirred in the bed.

He frowned to himself, letting his eyes adjust to the light in the room as he blinked them open.

He felt a pounding in his head; wincing through the thud of his hangover.

Instinctively he reached for the pint of water his drunken self had managed to bring upstairs with him the night before, and he held his head up off the pillow just enough to allow him to drink; immediate relief at the water spilling past his lips and eradicating his alcohol-induced dry mouth.

Jesus, how much had he drunk?

He placed the water back down on the side, and sunk back into his pillow.

Memories flooded through him; flashing vividly behind his eyelids; and the smile that filled his face was completely involuntary.

He remembered the look on Aaron’s face as they’d sat in that garage and said their vows to one another; how he’d been so intent on making things perfect and so annoyed at the Dingle’s for ruining it; and how Aaron had whisked him away and given him a more perfect, more intimate wedding than he had planned. And he’d loved how perfectly _them_ it had been.

He remembered the pub afterwards – the overflowing welly he drank from, no doubt the main cause of his current hungover state; the reluctant first dance that made his heart burst out of his chest when he thought about the way that Aaron had held him close and swayed with him, despite himself. He laughed to himself at the thought of it.

He remembered their conversation outside the pub, and he pushed that to the back of his mind, refusing to accept what was going to happen to them later that day. He wanted to at least enjoy this last moment of happiness in their now-marital bed.

He remembered when they’d finally been alone, in this bed, on their wedding night. How Aaron had been all heart-eyes and longing, and laughing as Robert had stumbled around in the fight to rid his new husband of his wedding suit, and how they’d fallen into each other’s arms before they’d fallen down onto the bed, and how he’d sobered at the feel of Aaron laying beneath him, and with the enormity of the emotions surrounding their first time together as husbands.

He shifted onto his side and flung an arm over his husband who slept soundly in their bed next to him.

His _husband._

Robert Sugden has a husband.

He smiled to himself some more, nuzzling into the soft hairs at the back of Aaron’s neck, peppering kisses along his neck and shoulder.

He felt Aaron stir, and heard him grumble, and he pulled backwards to stop himself from waking him up properly.

He deserved to sleep in today.

It may be his last good night’s sleep in a while.

Robert shifted himself away from Aaron, and turned to pull his pillows up to give him something to lean up against as he picked up his phone and scrolled through the pictures Chas, Vic and Liv had sent him on their whatsapp group chat from the day before.

After a few minutes he felt Aaron shift in the bed next to him, turning over in his sleep so that he was facing Robert’s side of the bed, still sleeping as he snuggled into his pillow.

Robert’s attention turned to his husband.

He slid slightly onto his side, and supported himself up on his elbow to allow himself to watch Aaron as he slept.

Aaron was sleeping softly; Robert feeling the waves of his breath against his arm with each exhale; unaware of his own breathing pattern falling in sync with that of his husband.

Robert smiled.

He could watch Aaron sleep for hours.

He looked so beautiful when he slept.

So _innocent_ and _carefree._

Soft, and gentle, and vulnerable in a way that made Robert only want to hold him and to protect him from what he was about to face.

He watched the rise and fall of Aaron’s body with each breath he took, and let his eyes drink in the features of the man he married; the man he’d soon be starved of the sight of.

He’d never tire of seeing Aaron like this, sleep hazed and beautiful.

He watched the way Aaron’s eye lashes flickered in his sleep, rapid eye movement hiding the visions of his dreams behind his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered out, and he had to catch his own breath with the sincerity in which he meant it.

He lay and watched his husband some more, consigning this image to his memory, taking his phone and stealing a quick picture whilst he could – one that he’d no doubt spend hours looking back over in the months to come.

Or maybe it would be weeks.

He tried to drink in the feeling – tried to savour that moment, right there, where Aaron was sleeping soundly in his presence; within touching distance.

He noticed his breathing increase slightly, and his eyes flickered open for half a second, and he opened his mouth slightly to inhale deeply.

Robert watched him some more; how his eyelashes rested peacefully against the tips of his cheeks; how his stubble tickled against Robert’s face as he leant in and nuzzled gently against Aaron’s face.

“I love you,” he whispered again, and he smiled to himself as he saw Aaron’s mouth twitch ever-so-slightly upwards at the sides.

Robert laughed.

“I know you can hear me,” Robert whispered, leaning in for another kiss.

Aaron smiled, his eyes remaining closed as he shifted slightly forwards to allow himself to nuzzle up to Robert’s arm, his stubble scratching against Robert’s bicep.

Robert lifted his arm to allow Aaron to settle into his embrace.

“I’ll let you sleep, Mr Sugden,” Robert whispered again as he picked up the book on his bedside table and started to read, aware of the movement of Aaron’s face into a smile against his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it, I can't believe I managed to do every day of Robron week. Thank you if you've read any of my ramblings, please kudos/comment if you've enjoyed reading.  
> Always wellyfullofale on tumblr if you want to come chat :)


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